The Apprentice
by Damhnait
Summary: A Potion Apprentice's time at Hogwarts... read books four through six before reading, some spoilers. Rated M for later chapters. I'm horrible at summaries
1. The Unbreakable Vow

_**Disclaimer: None of the Potterverse is mine. Although I'm extremely jealous of her, it all belongs to the never ending imagination of Ms. J.K Rowling.**_

Tamblyn ran through the corridors. She knew if she was caught running she'd have detention, but she needed to get to see Professor Snape before class started. She slowed to a fast walk as she neared the dungeon classroom. She heard voices, one was Snape's, hissing. The other she thought she knew as that Durmstrang professor. What was his name? Oh well, it didn't matter now. She walked into the classroom and came to a forceful half. It took her a minute to register why she stopped. Then she saw the Durmstrang professor's sleeve held up to his elbow, clearly presenting the Dark Mark on his forearm. She realized that Snape, her Portions Mentor, clutching his forearm through his robes. They both stopped their hushed conversation, and looked at her. She swallowed hard.

"Hello, Miss Desautelle." The Potions Master sneered.

"Hu.. Hullo Professors." She squeaked.

"Severus," hissed the Durmstrang teacher. "Your little mudblood apprentice cannot let this information leak out!"

"Quiet!" Snape snapped. He glared at Tamblyn. "My office, now!"

She scurried behind him, sneaking terrified glances at the teacher at the front of the class.

Snape slammed the door behind her as she entered. She scurried to the vacant area in front of his desk.

"Miss Desautelle, you will not tell anyone what you just saw." He stated.

"Sir" she managed to get out. "He's a DeathEater! He cannot be allowed in the school! If you won't tell the Headmaster, I'll have too"

"You," the black haired man growled as he leaned over the desk "Will not tell him. He already knows, and has entrusted me to keep this fact away from the student population."

Tamblyn was shocked. "How does he know?" terror was still in her eyes.

"I had informed him before the entourage came."

Another shocked silence from the witch. "How did you know, sir?"

Narrowing his eyes, he maneuvered around the desk towards her. "Because," he lifted up his sleeve. "I am one as well"

The Dark mark was black against Snape's pale skin. She recoiled behind an armchair. She met his eyes, and she knew he could see her horror, disbelief and worry in them.

"I am not going to harm you, Miss Desautelle. You are my apprentice."

"That does little to reassure me." Her voice shook as she spoke. She felt terror tremors in her body as she tried to stand still.

"And why is that?" he inquired.

"A DeathEater not wishing to harm a muggle born? Seems highly unlikely." She tried to snort, but it came out as a half sneeze.

He sighed. "Miss Desautelle, I fight for the Order of the Phoenix. I bring information to the Order about the Dark Lord's doings."

She studied him, terror still in her big blue eyes.

"What will it take for you to believe I will not harm you, Miss Desautelle?" Snape tried to move closer. Tamblyn skidded further away.

Her eyes studied him. His face showed no emotion, his black eyes betrayed no thought. His hair hung in his face but he did not brush it away. His breathing was shallow, slightly blowing his hair up and away from his face. Standing tall, he rose over her height by at least 9 inches, with his form fully clothed in black. His pale skin held no colour, making him appear almost ghostlike.

As he waited for her answer, he moved back to sit at his desk. His eyes never left hers.

She knew he regarded at ability as a Potions Brewer to be one of the best in her year, allowing her to become his apprentice. But she didn't know how he felt about muggle borns of half bloods. Did she dare attempt to probe his feelings?

He was getting tired of waiting for her response. She looked like a terrified animal, taking small steps away from him. Black apprentice robes hung from her frame, making her seem paler than normal. It could just be the fright of being hear 2 Death Eaters though. Auburn hair was tied loosely into a ponytail, with stray wisps hanging down either side of her face. Huge blue eyes were framed by thick black lashes. She had full, pink lips finished off a heard shaped face.

"Miss Desautelle, must I repeat the question?" he asked calmly. She shook her head no. "Well?" he was growing impatient.

She looked at him, eyes still wide, and body still shaking in fear.

"Sir, I honestly don't know. I'm a muggleborn. Death Eaters kill my kind."

"What reassurance can I give you that I will not harm or let harm come to you?" he restated the question.

He saw her bite her lower lip in though. She looked at him through her lashes, and then said "The Unbreakable Vow, sir."

Their gazes met for what seemed like eternity.

"Why the Unbreakable Vow?" he asked, more curious then angry.

"You asked what reassurance you could give that no DeathEater would harm me. The only way you can guarantee that is my consenting to the vow. You would be swearing on your life that no harm will come to me while Death Eaters roam these halls." She bit her lip again.

He thought for a moment. If he consented, he would be a personal bodyguard to his apprentice. He knew the Dark Lord was growing in power. He felt it, not only on his mark, but within the very core of his being. The Death Eaters would be back in full force then, and no one would be safe. Could he really protect Tamblyn from any DeathEater harm? Could he afford not to make the Vow, and risk having the best Potions Brewer he knew leave his tutelage to go into the world and be marked as a target? He knew more than anymore what an asset it would be to have Tamblyn Desautelle brewing potions along side him for the Order, fighting for the side that wished to defeat the most menacing force the Wizarding world had ever know. He needed to keep her safe, for all the Wizarding World. He looked her up and down, and then nodded slowly.

"Do you have a bonder in mind, Miss Desautelle?" a quick nod and a steady pace across the office to the door confirmed she knew who the bonder would be. She waved a Seventh year blond Ravenclaw into the room, closing and locking the door behind them.

"Katrina, what you hear in here does not leave the room." The blond girl, Katrina, nodded. Tamblyn conjured up a knife and cut her palm, motioning the other girl to do the same. They grasped hands, and sparks flew from their bond.

"Kat, I need you to be our bonder for the Unbreakable Vow. Professor Snape has consented to it, on my request." Tamblyn explained. Another nod and the girl took out her wand. Severus and Tamblyn kneeled across from eachother, grasping hands. Katrina pointed her wand at their hands, the tip touching their twining fingers.

"Do you, Severus Snape, swear to keep me, Tamblyn Desautelle, out of harm caused by Death Eaters, while we live at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" she spoke in a clear, strong voice, the one she only used for classes.

Severus cleared his throat. "I will."

The first fiery tendril came from Katrina's wand and would itself around the clasped hands.

"And do you, Severus Snape, promise to stay true to your word to protect Hogwarts from the forces of the Dark Lord and his followers?" Tamblyn locked faxes with her Potions Master.

"I will." Came the flat-toned response.

The auburn-haired witch's voice was barley more than a whisper for the last question. "And do you, Severus Snape, promise to prevent the Death Eaters who wish to cause me harm, no matter what the cost to you person, job, life, or soul?"

He paused. She asked a lot from him. "I will." He whispered back.

The pair watches at the third and final tendril snaked from Katrina's want, intertwining with the other 2, finishing the Vow, and binding the pair together in a way that no magic could break.

They gaze at each other for a few moments before Tamblyn dismissed the Seventh year student. The tendrils were gone, but their hands remained clasped.

"You ask much of me." He stated. She nodded slowly, releasing the clasp on his hand. Their eyes never left each others. They stood simultaneously, neither sure of what to say.

She knew she asked a lot, made him promise to give his life for her. She felt confident in the man she worked beside now. She had the reassurance she needed.

They carried on into the class.

_**This is my second posted Potter Fic. I have, unfortunately, no beta readers, so I must rely on the feedback I get from Please be kind, and helpful, if you decide to review. Merci Beaucoup!**_

_**Damhnait**_


	2. The Charm

_**Disclaimer: Again, Potterverse not mine. Tamblyn Desautelle is mine.**_

The days and months carried on with no worry. Hogwarts was safe. The triwaizard tournament carried on, as did Tamblyn's apprentice with Snape.

"Miss Desautelle, may I see you in my office?"

She looked up from her cauldron. The man in black stood in the entrance to his office. She settled into the armchair she had used for protection in the early part of the year.

"You're evaluation for Apprenticeship, Year One." He snapped, tossing parchment at her.

She eyed him warily. He had no patience as of last, which was unusual for Snape. His emotions, mostly dark, crept through the carefully molded exterior he kept up. Though they only showed to her, she worried for the student who did not work with the man on a daily basis.

"Sir," She started. "May I ask you a question?"

"Is it about your review?" his response was curt.

Tamblyn shook her head no. "I've noticed, sir, that you're very…" she paused, trying to find the appropriate words. "...agitated…as of late I was wondering if it's anything the students or I have done?"

Snape's glare was cold. She flinched as she tried to make eye contact.

"Miss Desautelle, if I cared to share my life with you, I would have."

She mentally kicked herself. The apprentice knew that it was a useless question. Trying to get her Master to share personal information was like trying to bleed a stone.

"Sorry sir." She muttered. "I'll review the evaluation tonight and sign off on it. I have to get back to my potion."

She made a move to leave, when Snape waved his wand and shut the door.

"Sit." he ordered. "You're brew will be fine for a few more moments."

They sat in silence. Tamblyn was never sure if it the silence meant he was contemplating what to say next or just inserted for a dramatic flare to the conversation.

"The Dark Lord," he began. "is returning. When, I know not. But I feel his pull grow with each passing day. That is why I am, agitated, as you put it."

She nodded slowly, taking in the information. The apprentice figured that this was the cause of the change in behavior.

"I've been noticing, Professor," she said in her most understanding voice. "That you touch your forearm often. Do you feel his call?"

The black eyed man stared at Tamblyn. "You notice I touch my arm?" he sounded shocked that something so simple gave him away to this young woman.

She smiled a meek smile. "I note change in a person's behavior to help myself deal better in my endeavors."

Snape eyed her suspiciously. "What else you notice about people?"

"Just behavioral or physical movement when I deal directly with them. It helps me realize and understand actions that I do that displease or aren't accepted by others, especially superiors." She smirked. "I've had a file going for all my professors since I started as a student."

Another pause in conversation. "Yes, I feel his call grow strong."

"You haven't forgotten, I hope, our Vow?" Tamblyn's voice was quiet and shaking.

"No, Miss Desautelle, I have not."

The year ended with the Dark Lord's return and the death of Cedric Diggory. It also meant the parting of Tamblyn and Severus.

"Miss Desautelle, a word if you have a moment."

She was just about to leave for Hogsmeade to join her parents. She promised them a tour of the only completely Wizarding town in Britain.

"Yes Professor."

He pulled the witch aside, speaking to her in hushed tones. "I want you to carry this at all times. If you are in danger from the Dark Lord or one of his followers, it will sense it and call me to you." He handed her a silver chain with a charm of 2 serpents intertwined.

Tamblyn noticed he worse the same on around his neck. She immediately put it on. Smiling at it, she left to seek her parents.

_**Please be helpful if you read and review, thanks!**_

_**Damhnait**_


	3. No One Enters Without My Consent

_**Disclaimer: The all-wonderful beings from the Potterverse aren't mine. They belong those raking in the moo-lah. Tamblyn is all mine though.**_

Tamblyn wanted to say she was surprised about how little she heard about the DeathEater attacks in the news. She wanted to say that the Dark Lord's return seemed uneventful from the news. But she knew better. Snape had taken to owling every few days, catching her up on what was going on in the Dark Lord's circle that he felt pertained to her and her family, how many attacks there were and where to stay away from.

She wore the necklace always, even bathing. She didn't know how it worked, but she knew she could feel Severus' presence when she wore it. It comforted her.

Her parents were unsure of how to treat their daughter after she told them about the Unbreakable Vow. They asked plenty of questions, which she answered to the best of her knowledge, but they didn't understand it's complexities.

"Does it mean you're married?" he mother, Caroline, asked.

The witch shook her head. "No, mum, we are not married. Professor Snape is still my teacher. It means he is held to protect me from any Death Eaters that want to hurt me."

Her father, a tall, brown haired man named Keith, inquired "But you said this Snape fellow was on those Death Eating things as well. What makes you think he won't turn on you?"

Tamblyn smiled. "That is the part of the Vow that usually scares people away. If you break any part of the Vow, you die. The old saying 'swear on your life' was taken to the extreme with Wizards. That's why I trust Professor Snape."

Her parents seemed pleased by the answer and had not brought the subject up again.

The days faded by and the school year started again. Since apprentices were not required to be present, Tamblyn skipped the beginning of the year feast. Instead she waited in the Potions room, organizing ingredients for the students next day.

She was just finishing off the alphabet when Snape walked in. He stopped along the back of the room.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"Organizing potions, sir." She absentmindedly responded as she lined up another jar.

He strode over to her, checking for unwanted visitors over his shoulder. "Are you still wearing the charm I provided you with?" Tamblyn nodded. "Meet me in your chambers in half and hour. We need to enchant them." He turned and left.

She laughed, finished sorting potion ingredients and went to her chambers.

"Wards on my chambers my ass. He needs to share something important." She muttered while she walked, shaking her head. She entered her chambers to find her teacher sitting in an armchair.

"Hullo Professor." She whispered. He looked as if he were in deep thought.

"Miss Desautelle." He rose gracefully from the chair and glided over to her. He never ceased to add grace to the most mundane movements she thought. "We will put many protection wards on your chambers tonight that will require both of our energies. You must eat to build your strength." He waved his want and a plate of chicken and rice appeared. She at it all, only then realizing how hungry she had become.

He had, while she ate, put preliminary wards on the walls of the rooms.

"Stand here." Snape pointed to a space in front of her window. Tamblyn complied.

He stood behind her. Tamblyn could feel the heat from his body on the back of her neck. She shifted uncomfortably.

"Point your wand at the window in the center." He instructed. She obeyed.

He sighed, as if he was fed up with something. Grabbing her arm, he repositioned it. Then, following the line of her arm, he placed his wand next to hers.

"Repeat after me; Nessuno entra a meno che concede" he spoke, speaking the charm fluently.

Tamblyn, on the other hand, stumbled over the words.

"Nessu-en-oo entrah ah mueno she coincendi"

Severus put her wand down as sparks flew from the tip.

"Let's get the pronunciation correct." He sneered. Then, over enunciating, said "Nessuno."

She felt like a child. "Ne-essun-oo."

"Nessuno. Short o sound." Snape was not pleased.

"Nessuno." She felt proud.

Snape, on the other hand, displayed no emotion once she mastered the world. Tamblyn tried not to let her hurt show.

It took her 10 minutes, but Tamblyn finally mastered the Italian phrase.

"Are you ready?" Severus asked, dark eyes hiding what she though she saw as annoyance. Tamblyn nodded.

She stood again by the window, her teacher inches behind her. Their wands pointed at the same point on her bedroom bay window. If she breathed deep enough she could smell his scent.

"Nessuno entra a menu che concedi!" they spoke the phrase in unison, wands emitting a thin, silver streak at the same time.

Tamblyn watched at the streams united into on just before they hit the window. The silver then spread across the panes of glass, evenly coating it.

Snape moved away quickly once the ward had taken.

"Sir." She blurted before he moved to far away. "What was that ward?"

His eyes were focused on her couch, as he said "A ward I created myself and use on my own chambers."

"What," she pressed. "Does the phrase mean?"

He signed. "Translated it mean No One Enters Without My Consent."

She nodded, pretending to understand why that phrase was so powerful. Charms had never been her strong point.

They finished the wards, and Tamblyn set her password. "Fluffy bunnies." She told the pained. It had smirked at her, but nodded.

"Sir, do we start tomorrow morning, or do you only want me to be in the seventh year class like last year?" Tamblyn inquired as she folded a blanket her mother had made her.

"I believe you may start teaching the first years in my place." Was the carefully molded reply.

This startled Tamblyn. She looked at the black clad man with wide eyes. Severus Snape never let anyone teach his classes.

"The first years have Potions Tuesday after lunch. Prepare a lesson plan from this book," he placed a large textbook on the table. "And present it to me no later than 6 tomorrow evening. I must review it." His eyes turned from the blanket to herself. "Is there anything else?" After her negative reply, he turned and left.

"So much for secrets. Not that I really expected a summer recap of his ups and downs…. I don't even think I could handle it really…" she muttered to herself as she prepared for bed.

_**Please be helpful if you review! Merci!**_

_**Damhnait**_


	4. End of Year 2

_**Disclaimer: Potterverse Not Damhnait's property. Tamblyn Damhnait's property**_

The next day was spent writing draft after draft of lesson plans. According to Tamblyn, that was the most interesting thing she did all year. Snape, albeit moody and snarky, did care for any DeathEater worries she had. He kept his half of the Vow, and took it seriously. About 4 times a week he made surprise visits to her chambers.

Something worried Tamblyn during the second year of her apprenticeship. The necklace with the charm of two serpents disturbed her slightly. She couldn't place why though. During the summer, the knowledge that Snape would always know her well being comforted her. When she wore it she felt his presence, as if a well liked ghost hovered around her. This year though, at Hogwarts, it seemed intrusive. She often wondered if he felt her presence around when he wore his charm. She couldn't find the courage to ask him. He was in a right foul mood most of the time. Tamblyn knew he snapped at the students. She herself was snapped at number times. But Snape seemed to have less patience then normal this year. During one of the catchup meetings she mentioned it.

"Miss Desautelle, it is no concern of yours how I teach my class." Was his tart reply. She decided not to press the issue further.

The auburn haired witch continued to teach the first year Potions. None of them, much to her dismay, proved to be fit for the art of potion making. She wondered if it was her methods.

"Nonsense." Mutter her mentor. "Most Hogwarts students are inept when it comes to Potions."

The year ended normal for Hogwarts itself. The Ministry of Magic, on the other hand, had a ball of a time. There was an order vs. DeathEater duel, finishing with Dumbledore, that Potter boy and Voldemort squaring off, and the death of Sirius Black. Tamblyn didn't know him, other than what was in the news and what Snape muttered about him.

By the end of the year, Snape looked overworked and exhausted.

_**Please be helpful if reading and reviewing, merci!**_

_**Damhnait**_


	5. Thorton

_**Disclaimer: Alas, I own not the Potterverse. I only abuse it occasionally for Tamblyn's needs**_

"Professor, you need to rest." She claimed on day in her session with him. He just snorted. "I'm serious. You look like you'll drop your head in your cauldron if you sit there much longer."

Again, she was met with a cold black stare. She had grown use to them in the past year, and ignored them. "I'm just stating, that as a worried apprentice, you need a good, full nights sleep. It's no secret you're an insomniac. There are potions that can help that. Madam Pomfrey would be more than willing to give you something as well, if it's a physical ailment preventing you from sleeping, sir."

He snorted. "Miss Desautelle, I have neither the time nor the ability to get a full night sleep."

Out of her pocket she pulled a vial. "Take this and you'll be knocked out for a good 10 hours. Also, quitting the Thorton will help." She knew she was a good as dead with that comment. She waited for the hex. But it didn't come.

Instead she found the Potions Master staring at her, his masks down, wearing a speechless expression on his face.

"What do you know about Thorton?" he whispered, trying to sound menacing but failing.

Tamblyn shrugged and added flax seed to her cauldron. "I know enough to see the symptoms of an addiction."

She was met again by silence.

"Look, Professor. Thorton, as I'm sure you know, is a highly addictive potion used as an upper for those with impossibly busy lives. It gives a sense of security and control over one's life while providing the energy to keep moving at a fast pace when the user feels proper rest and nutrition are expendable. The ingredient Metsa provides the mental stability feeling while the 6 grams of Bacara provides the energy when combined with the 5 grams of Tulacraka. But when used daily, over months, not only is addiction a risk, so is death. Metsa is poison to the cells of the brain, eating away the reasons center of it. Soon the user, within 6 to 8 months, goes insane as he has no reasoning skills left. And out of the hundred or so cases of Thorton addictions in the past 10 years, 90 people have committed suicide unknowing. If I'm not mistaken, one young man fell off a building because he believe himself so in control of his body that he could make himself fly." She ignored his irritated looks. "Sir, you're irritability during classes is indicative of the anxiety and irritability during the last few hours the potion is lasting, coupled with the fact that you've lost about 35lbs this year and the bags under your eyes are more pronounced from lack of sleep. Let me see your eyes. "She cast a bright light from her wand on his face. "Your pupils are slow to react. Your skin is also showing veins around your eyes and hands, indicating an increased flow of toxins which is also caused by the Metsa. Sir," she stammered. "How long have you been using Thorton?" she tried to look as concerned as she could. Tamblyn was terrified for her Mentor. Thorton addiction cases never go right. That's why it was an illegal Potion.

He was silent, looking at her. He noted the concerned look. "About 6 months."

The apprentice swore under her breath.

"Miss Desautelle, must I remind you again that cursing while on apprenticeship time is ground for dismissing you?"

"Professor Snape, must I remind you again what an idiotic bastard you've been for the past 6 months? Tamblyn retorted. "Now I understand why, when I wear the charm you gave me, I feel anxious and nervous, like too many eyes are watching me at once. I've felt it all year sir, so don't give me the story you've only been using for 6 months. The energy that charm is giving off to protect me is directly feeding off you."

The Potions Master made a move to speak, and then closed his mouth. Tamblyn took this oppoturtunity to continue.

"I don't want you to continue taking Thorton, Professor. You need to go through the detoxification process to get it out of your system. I'm sure I don't need to tell you how horrible your summer will be. On top of the symptoms I will be here as well, to help you get through it all." Her voice was caring now. "Professor, Severus, may I ask as to why you felt the need to use Thorton?"

He didn't respond right away. He seemed to be trying to come up with an explanation.

"The truth, please." She pleaded.

The black haired man glared at her, then looked around. "I am a spy. Double agent, actually. I spy on Voldemort for Dumbledore, and Voldemort believes I spy on Dumbledore for him. I go to almost all the DeathEater meetings, carry out the Dark Lord's wishes and go on…" he paused. "We call them promenade de mise a mort de viol, or promenade to be short. It's very taxing, working for the Dark Lord, and then teaching dunderheads daily."

"Promenade de mise a mort de viol? That's French for…" Tamblyn trailed off, horrified.

"Rape kill outing." Severus wearily finished.

The witch sat on the floor beside her boiling cauldron. Well, it was more of an unceremonious flop down.

"How many of these... promenade's… have you been on in this past year?" she whispered. She really didn't want to know though.

He moved neared to her. "About 4. This is a small number.

Burying her face in her hands, she was silent. She took a few moments to regain her composure.

"Miss Desautelle?"

"You need to stop taking Thorton."

"As long as I am a double agent, and teach, it will not happen.

"The stop being a DeathEater!" cried the sitting woman.

"Keep your voice down, Miss Desautelle." Snape replied. "I cannot do that."

"At least get off Thorton." Tamblyn pleaded.

"My survival depends on it."

How could he sound so calm she wondered? "This is your life you're gambling with professor. You take Thorton any longer, you'll die.

"I'll die if I stop." Another matter-of-fact answer. "If I let my defense down, the Dark Lord will end my life."

Tamblyn was flustered now. "For the love of all things good sir! If you won't stop for your own life," She changed her tactics. "Stop for mine. You promised to protect me against DeathEater. If you won't stop for yourself, stop for me."

The potions master drew back some, fact still impassive. "Miss Desautelle, I have not the time to recover. The Dark Lord is fickle. If I am gone for long my place will be taken by another. The Order cannot risk me losing my place."

Tamblyn couldn't take anymore. She rose gracefully from the floor, quelled her potion, and left for her chambers.

Although she wore Snape's necklace for the summer, she did not think of him, nor answer his owls.

She didn't see him till the next school year, although she felt him all summer long.

_**Please be kind, read & review with helpful feedback!**_

_**Damhnait**_


	6. The Dark Arts Change

_**Disclaimer: Own not the Potterverse does Damhnait. Only owns Tamblyn, she does.**_

"Miss Desautelle, may I see you in my office." It was more of a command then a question, but Tamblyn didn't move.

"Miss Desautelle?" he tried again, his tone that of an authority figure.

"Did you stop taking it?" she asked, knowing the answer.

"Miss Desautelle, let's not start this again."

Tamblyn swore under her breath, but did not say anything aloud. She kept standing in front of the Potion stores, checking to see that they were all full and in order.

"My office, Miss Desautelle. We must draw up plans for this year." He stalked off.

Tamblyn sighed, and then followed.

His office felt different to her. It was still dank, dark and lined with jars of carrying things. No, it looked the same. The air, the wards perhaps, felt different. She felt uncomfortable in this place. It felt as it disembodied eyes were watching her every move, recoding them and filing the away for review at a later date. She looked around her a few times, wondering if he installed something visual. The witch smiled at the thought.

"Yes, I have upgraded the wards on my office." Snape offered, sneering. Tamblyn got the hint and sat in the chair opposite his desk.

The Potions Master wasted no time. "In addition to teaching the first years Potions, you will assist me in the Second through Sixth year Defense Against the Dark Arts classes."

Tamblyn's eyes grew wide. "Sir?"

Snape took a sip of his tea. "The Headmaster has granted me the Dark Arts position. Professor Horace Slughorn has taken the Potions position." He sounded calm, like this was to be expected. He took another sip of tea.

Tamblyn was at a loss for words. She was a potions apprentice, not Dark Arts. She never excelled in the class, barely scraping the graded she needed to get into the apprenticeship she was in.

All thoughts of Thorton fleeing her mind, she voiced her thoughts. "Sir, forgive me, but my apprenticeship is for Potions, not the Dark Arts. Would it not be wise for me to continue my studies with Professor Slughorn if he is taking the Potions position?"

He was silent. "Dumbledore," he sneered. "Voiced the same opinion." Another sip of tea, then he continued. "I, on the other hand, and still bound by the Vow we made 2 years ago." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "I do not… place my trust… in Professor Slughorn in regards to your safety while in his classes. I have allowed the first year class to remain yours as you are a Potions apprentice. It is because I have that period free to supervise and grade you. Beyond that, especially within the next year, I would advise you stay near me. Unless, of course, by this time you have mastered the Unforgivable Curses?" a smile played on his lips. "Judging by your expression you have not. In that case, you will assist me with my Dark Arts classes. Are the wards still in place on your chambers?" the question signaled the end of their previous topic.

Tamblyn nodded solemnly.

"We need to place more on them. Follow me." He rose and, with black robes billowing, started on the way to Tamblyn's chambers.

_**Constructive reviews welcome!**_

_**Damhnait**_


	7. Breaking Vows

_**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling, in all her infinite wisdom, owns the Potterverse. I, on the other hand, own Tamblyn. And Katrina, from the first Chapter.**_

Half way through the year Tamblyn wishes she had paid more attention in her own Dark Arts classes. Snape tended to use his apprentice as an example. She had, so far, been called on the defend herself again a dragon, various pixies and faeries, angered elves and a few too many boggarts for her liking. She was emotionally and mentally drained from Snape. On top of that, the first years in her Potions class seemed to be, astonishingly, all muggleborn and, more understandable, all inept at Potions. No less than 3 cauldrons exploded during each practical class. She was drained from the classes she was involved in. Snape, knowing this, had her sessions every night, including weekends. He had her making extremely advanced potions. The first month she spent brewing the Wolfsbane Potion for Remus Lupin. Lupin, Snape explained, needed to keep his mind during his transformations monthly so he could report on the werewolf activity for the Order. Her first attempt at the Potion was a failure. Luckily for Remus, Snape was brewing the Potion as well, incase of Tamblyn's failure. The witch's potion would have killed the werewolf had he taken it. She felt like she was an utter failure..

Through all of this, Tamblyn kept the admiration she had for her teacher. She noticed the bags under his eyes become darker and more pronounced. The slight slope in the shoulders deepened with each passing week. The smiled she offered, which were normally acknowledged with a nod, were now scowled at, even ignored. She was worried for him, worried that he still took Thorton.

One cold day in February, she dragged herself into his office, still adjacent to the Potions Rooms.

He didn't look up as she sat. Tamblyn seated herself cross-legged, kicking off her shoes. She didn't say anything. She wanted Severus to start the conversation.

He didn't speak. She watched as he peered at parchment in front of him. His eyes moved rapidly, reading quickly. She wondered how fast he was at taking in detail. His hair, now that he wasn't constantly dealing with Potions and steaming cauldrons, lost its greasy look. It appeared soft and shiny, pieces failing into his face as he moved slightly. His skin had turned from sallow to pale, although with his rapid weight loss it had the appearance of leather stretched too tight. Lines around the corners of his eyes and his mouth gave him an appearance of a much older man than his 38 years. His black robes hung from his frame different then they used to, most likely, she concluded, from his recent drop in weight as well.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, Miss Desautelle?"

She shook herself from gazing at him. "Sir?" she began. "Oh, yes. I was wondering," she blushed. She had almost forgotten her reason for coming here. "If you had any books or guides to the wards that the founders put on Hogwarts. Today's Darks Arts class piqued my interest." She offered a smile, which was not returned.

She shifted uncomfortably in the chair as he Potions teacher strode over to his bookcase. Pulling out 3 books, he quickly checked that they were the proper ones, and then handed them to Tamblyn.

"Thank you sir." She said quietly.

"Is there something else, Miss Desautelle?" Snape inquired impatiently when he noticed that Tamblyn didn't move from her chair.

"Sir," she said, trying to find courage. She was a Ravenclaw, not a Gryffindor. "We've worked closely for 2 and a half years now. We may not be friends, per say, but I feel like we are somewhat closer than student and teacher. I mean, I know some things about you that most of the facuatly doesn't know I'm sure." She paused, trying to judge his reaction. His face was impassive. "I still feel, through this charm, that you're using Thorton. I'm concerned sir. It's been over a year, almost 2 years now, that you've been using it…."

Severus cut in. "I do not use it daily, Miss Desautelle. I use it sparingly, when needed."

"You still use it more than a one off shot." She snapped. "Sir, the only reason I'm even mentioning this is because I care about you and your health. I realize that you are a double agent, needing to do work for you-know-who, and still teach at the same time. But you're killing yourself. And you're not use to the Order dead." She stopped talking, hoping something in her ramble set in. She realized that it hadn't when he spoke his next phrase.

"Tamblyn, over the summer I had made another Vow with Narcissa Malfoy. The end of this year will turn out bad, not only for me, but for the Order, and yourself as well." He took a deep breath and shakily released it. His eyes were focused on a parchment, trying to not look at her. "I will not be here next year, I believe. I will be a full time Death Eater, if that could be considered a profession. By this time next year, I will most likely either be dead, or in Azkaban. Either way, by this summer, I believe you will be on your own. I cannot prevent these things from happening Miss Desautelle."

Tamblyn blankly stared at her Professor. "What is going to happen, sir?" her voice shook with fear. He was being too cryptic for her liking.

"I cannot tell."

"Like hell you can't. You have me now believing that the school's going to come under a heavy attack and that people are going to die within these walls!" Tamblyn now paced around the room, arms waving in anger. "Severus, what will happen that you are so pessimistic about?" she leaned on his desk, eye level with the wizard.

His eyes showed sadness. Actual sadness, something Tamblyn had never seen in those eyes before. She didn't think he was capable of the emotion.

"Dumbledore will be dead by the end of the year, most likely by my hand. I will be outcast from Hogwarts, never to return. The Order will want no part of me, as will none of the parents whose children go here. I will not see you again, Tamblyn, I hope, after the end of the year." He drew a deep breath, holding it, waiting her response.

She closed her eyes, trying to assemble to words in her mind. "What do you mean 'most likely by my hand'? You keep eluding to the fact that there is a slim chance that Hogwarts will not loose you, but you seem to pass off that shred of hope, preferring the gloomier side of things."

He gazed at her with black eyes penetrating her core. "The Dark Lord has a plan, but his plan involves a yet proven Death Eater killing the Headmaster. This DeathEater is taking the task out of revenge for his father, but does not have the power nor the gut to do this. There is a slim chance, yes, that he will do the deed required of him. But it is a very small chance, almost too small to grasp onto."

She broke his gaze, unable to stare into the pit of his soul any longer. It was dark, and she was frightened of it. "Sir," she said. "I don't know what is being planned, but I would like to. I don't know why you feel that you have no chance, no hope in any of this. You stated you made another Vow that contradicts the Vow you made with me."

He let out a shaky breath. "Narcissa… made me swear that if this DeathEater could not complete the task, that I would. That task, the killing of Dumbledore, requires me to resurrect my full role of DeathEater, allowing DeathEaters in the halls of the school. I can no longer protect Hogwarts from DeathEaters. I cannot guarantee the protection of you from them as well, especially after the end of this year. If we do not break our Vow, no matter what happens, no matter if the Headmaster lives or not, I will be dead."

Tamblyn sat back down, thinking about his latest reveal. This was too much for her, too much in one night.

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**_Damhnait_**


	8. Denied

_**Disclaimer: Not owned by me, Owned by J.K. Rowling. Tamblyn, with her Ravenclawness, is all mine.**_

"You want to back out in a safe way of our Vow." She stated, putting the words he spoke into a simpler sentence. He nodded.

She regarded him, suddenly feeling anger for the man she had been closest to in the past 2 ½ years. "Why did you make the other Vow if you knew it contradicted with ours?" she felt betrayed, that he was putting someone else's trust above her own. It hurt her deep, that she meant nothing more than a nuisance to him, something that he thought he could easily get rid of. Did he really ever care if she lived or died, or by whose hands it was? Maybe her father had been right; maybe she should have been concerned about Snape betraying her, turning against her for his own gain. How… Slytherin… of him.

He must have seen the anger rising in her eyes. "Miss Desautelle…" he started, but she cut him off.

"Don't you dare do that! Miss Desautelle? You're treating me like just another student, an expendable student. I trusted you! I trusted and believed that you would keep me from harm, as long as I was in this school. I had even begun to learn things from you in the Dark Arts class, things that I hadn't heard about before! I had thought of you in a human way, sticking up for you when other students called you names behind your back! My father was right, you did turn on me." She turned to leave. She got 2 paces from the door when it slammed in her face. She couldn't turn around, though. There were tears streaming down her face.

"Miss Desautelle, I am still your teacher and you will treat me as such. You do not understand the complexities of being a double agent. You must look out for yourself first and foremost. Then, if that mixes well for one of the sides, you take any opportunity thrown at you to keep living. If I had not made the Vow with Narcissa, I would have been ousted from the Dark Lord's circle, and the Headmaster would have lost valuable information. I had to think of which course of action would save the most lives. You are not expendable. I will have all the forms done up for you by the time the events unfold. You will become a Potions Mistress, and most likely take over my old position here at Hogwarts, where you will be safe. Did you honestly think I had not thought of your well-being? I am not completely heartless." Tamblyn snorted at the comment. "You think I took you on for the fun of it?" Now she turned around to face him, face still wet with tears. "You are the most advanced Potions Brewer I have seen since coming to Hogwarts. By your second year I knew I would take you as my apprentice, even if the thought hadn't crossed your mind. I have never taken an apprentice. Never, Miss Desautelle. But if I had wasted your talents, sent you off into the world to be taught by someone else, you would not have lived up to your full potential. Not only that, the Order needs you. Once I am gone, they will have no Potions Master. You, Miss Desautelle, are the only one I would entrust the position to. Had this not been your last year as my apprentice, I don't know what I would have done this summer. You will become the Potions Mistress you seek, Miss Desautelle."

She smiled, but it was a cold smile. She glared at him. "Thank you, for that comfort at least. At least I know I can be used to take your place. I can be the replacement Snape. Excellent. It was what I always wanted. To become you." Sarcasm dripped from her voice. "Professor, forgive me, but that was the least of my concerns. My life, your life, the lives of the students and teachers in this building, are my priorities. And if you say that by the end of the year the Headmaster will be dead and there will be an attack on the school, then I believe that. And I fear for that day. I fear for the halls of this ancient building becoming tarnished by those you associate with. I fear for what lives will be lost while the Dark Lord plays his little power game. I fear for what will become of me, if I will survive. You said yourself; I have not mastered much of the Dark Arts. I don't know how to slay my enemy with the Unforgivable Curses. I make potions, not kill other wizards. And if those wizards want to kill me, what protections will I have? None. What am I going to do, through a vial at them? Make them fly with the charms I know? Disarm them, only for them to retrieve their wands and kill me seconds later?" the tears started fresh from her eyes. "Sir, with all due respect, I felt safe having you watch over me, even though you are a DeathEater and a Thorton addict. You have your faults, but you seemed to be an honorable man." She paused, learning that he did the same so the other party could let the information sink in. She drew a raspy breath, then said, "I will not release you from your Vow you made to me two years ago." And Tamblyn walked out of the man's office, leaving him standing behind his desk alone.

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_**Damhnait**_


	9. Realizations

_**Disclaimer: If only the Potterverse was mine… but alas, it is not.**_

Tamblyn was furious. The greasy git didn't understand it was about life, not whether she got her certification or not. She stalked through the halls, scaring a few first years. She didn't mean too, honestly. They were just happy. She wasn't, and made it quite evident. She slammed the door to her chambers, the sound echoing through the halls. Flopping on her bed, she finished the crying she started in the Potions Master's Office.

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He watched her leave, feeling stunned.

"Women." He muttered. In all his dealing with females, he always forgot to factor in their emotional outbursts and mood swings. He sat down and pulled the bottle of whiskey from his desk. After pouring a generous amount into a glass, he put the cap back on and took a long drink of the bitter liquid. It burned as it went down his throat. Burned so much he felt it on his chest.

Wait, that wasn't the whiskey. It was his charm! He dug the necklace out from his clothes and held it. It was hot, and glowed. That was a sign she was in harms way from a DeathEater.

He got up and rushed to her chambers.

"Miss Desautelle!" he called banging on the portrait. It was less than impressed with the abuse.

"Tamblyn, open the door!" he tried again.

No answer. The attack couldn't be now, he thought. It was too soon in the year. Draco didn't have near enough time to have planned this all. Severus wondered is Narcissa was helping her son. That still didn't explain the early warning of a horrendous attack on the auburn-haired witch.

The charm he gave her picked up her feeling as well as the energies of those in the building with her. Each DeathEater carried a specific spike in energy that the serpents picked up. If Tamblyn felt threatened or frightened, only then would the serpents react, sending a message to their counterpart on his neck to warn him.

Snape finally understood why his charm was burning him, when no other Death Eaters were present.

Tamblyn no longer felt safe with him around.

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Tamblyn listened to Severus pound on her door. She heard him yell and scream for her to answer. Then it stopped. Normally she would be concerned. But right now, she didn't care. For all she knew, he could just be giving up on her completely, leaving her for dead.

'That's not fair duckling.' Her mind told her. 'He does care. He just doesn't know it yet.'

She shook her head. "No, he doesn't care. He cares more about his own skin. He always has, and he always will."

She sat alone for the rest of the night, staring at the moon through her window.

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Severus went back to his dungeon rooms. His walk was of a man who was scorned by the woman he loved; only he didn't love Tamblyn. Not in a sexual way, it was more platonic, teacher student love.

'Is there such thing?' his mind asked. 'Is there such thing as teacher student love?'

"Of course there is." Severus muttered to himself.

'How do you know, when you have never loved another human being, Severus Snape?' the little voice nagged, laughing at him.

"Quiet." He snapped.

Severus spent the night in his sitting room, drinking whiskey, staring at the fire dancing wildly in his fireplace.

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His head hurt. Why did his head hurt? Bloody hell, it felt like his temples were magnetic opposites, thrusting against each other to split his head wide open.

'Maybe that would relieve the pressure.' Taunted the little voice.

"Since when did my conscious take a care in what I was doing with our lives?" he muttered, trying to get out of the chair he hadn't moved from all night. He moved towards his bathroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. So this was what he would look like if he was dead…..

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She was warm, but stiff. She noted that fluffy blankets were pulled up to her chin, and a pillow was hugged tight to her chest. She had been crying all last night, putting herself to sleep when she finally ran out of tears to cry.

'Would you throw yourself at a man who had absolutely no feeling?' asked the nagging voice from last night.

"Apparently I have. Leave me allow. I like to wallow in peace." She rolled over, getting out of bed. Her joints protested. She walked to her wardrobe, seeing herself in the mirror. I guess my parents were right, I do cry pretty…….

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With a cup of coffee in hand, both Severus and Tamblyn headed towards the dungeon office. Neither knew of the other's whereabouts this morning, and both would have to agree they didn't care either.

Tamblyn rounded a corner, yawning, running right into a black clad man who cursed as coffee spilt down his clothing.

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Severus mentally planned out the day, one version with Tamblyn to help and one without. As he exited through a doorway, he felt burning liquid spill down his front. He cursed loudly.

They both looked up at the same time from Severus' clothes to meet eyes. They held their gaze only a moment, and then each looked away.

"Morning, Miss Desautelle." He muttered.

"Hullo, Professor." She mumbled.

Awkward silence ensued for a few moments. Tamblyn shifted uncomfortably.

"I think I shall head to my chambers to change." Severus blurted out, catching himself too late to stop.

"Good idea." And with that, she left towards the Potions class.

Snape watched her leave, wondering why she was heading that way. They had 3rd year Dark Arts first thing on a Tuesday morning.

Shrugging, he headed to his chambers for fresh robes.

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